A Yearning
by Brf526-1
Summary: Hermione catches Snape doing something he shouldn't. What will she do when she realizes her 'feelings' for a certain Potions Master are changing?
1. Talking Back

**A/N:** Hope you guys like this story. It's been edited for content. If you want to read the original form, go to my website and you'll get the 'more-mature' version. That version is much better.

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**Talking Back**

Hermione's week had not been going well. With the extra amount of work assigned in her charms' class as well as the already overly drawn out essay she was writing for Ancient Runes, sitting in Potions class was annoying her and she her nerves were standing on end.

"Mr. Longbottom, I can see you have failed to stir your potion the recommended 25 times before you added the sandalwood root," Snape commented as he walked past the struggling boy whose cauldron was smoking and smelling like rotted garbage. Taking his wand from his robe, Snape gave the boiling black mess a slight flick with his wand, removing the contents and moving the cauldron back to where it had been when they first entered the dungeons. He turned to Neville.

"Mr. Longbottm, it seems like you have failed once again," he said with a large smirk. Hermione had had enough. Turning around from where she was standing, her face covered in rage, she looked at Snape.

"Why don't you find someone else to torment Professor? If you could see past the end of your abnormally large nose, you would be able to see that Neville tries his hardest, only to be manipulated into doing poorly because you can't stand to watch someone other than a Slytherin excel in your class," she spat, her words full of spite.

Neville gasped, watching Snape turn to face the seething Gryffindor. The entire room went silent. It almost seemed as if the cauldrons ceased boiling in that one moment.

"40 points from Gryffindor Miss Granger, and one week's detention," he sneered, looking at the shaking student before him.

"Pity, I thought it would have been two," Hermione said, grabbing her books and bag as she walked out of the class, her robes flowing wildly behind her. Snape looked at the remaining students.

"What are you staring at?" he yelled, making his way back to his desk.

Never in all his years at Hogwarts had a student talked back to him, and of all people to do it, he would never have guessed it to be Hermione Granger. Without taking his eyes off the desk, he gave his wand another flick and every cauldron returned to the storage wall.

"Class dismissed," he growled, listening to the sounds of the students shuffling out of the room. Taking a seat behind the desk, he leaned back, his hands casually laced behind his head as he contemplated the previous events. He had been speechless. And it took a lot to make Severus Snape speechless. A faint grin appeared on his face as he recalled her last words.

_Pity, I thought it would have been two._

That was a comeback worthy of any Slytherin. Minerva would have a field day with that little line. He still couldn't believe it, Hermione nose-in-a-book, would never hurt a fly, had the answer to everything, had her future mapped out by the age of 13 Granger had yelled at him as well as shown a little wit. He had to give the girl points, it took a lot to stand up to Severus Snape, and in his own classroom no less. Taking a piece of parchment from his desk, he quickly scrawled a reminder and then headed off to his own private chambers. He needed to do some thinking.

………………………………………………………………

Hermione stormed into the Gryffindor common room still fuming. Throwing her book bag on the floor, she fell into a plush chair near the fire, trying to rid her body of some of the tension that was making her head hurt and eyes sting. She couldn't believe it. No, wait, she could. But of all the professors to blow up at, she had to choose the one that hated her the most. Her head turned as the portrait hole opened and Neville, Harry, and Ron fell into the common room.

"Hermione, what the bloody hell were you thinking?" Ron asked, tripping as he made his way toward her. "Of all the people you had to yell at Snape!"

"Oh quiet Ronald. Don't look at me like that. Professor Snape has been hounding Neville for the past six years and I decided that someone finally needed to do something about it."

"Hermione, you didn't have to stick up for me. I'm used to failing in potions," Neville said, his body plopping down on the floor beside Hermione's chair.

"I wasn't just sticking up for you Neville. I was sticking up for any other student who has ever been bullied by Professor Snape. He's always gotten away with it and I'm tired of giving him the upper hand. As a teacher he should know better than terrorizing his students. If anything, he should help them, not frighten them."

Ron watched her, his head shaking. Harry merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Thank you Hermione. I would never have had the guts to do anything like that."

"You're welcome Neville, but I don't need thanks. I could care less about getting a week's detention and we can always earn the points back. If I was going to blow up at anyone, I'm glad it was Professor Snape. It made it all the more worthwhile."

Standing up from the chair, Hermione grabbed her book bag and made her way up to her room. She needed to do some studying before they went to dinner.

………………………………………………………………

Filing into the Great Hall, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville took their places at the Gryffindor table, saying hello to Dean and Seamus as they sat down.

"Hermione, did you really yell at Snape?" Seamus asked her.

She looked at.

"Where did you hear that from?"

"The whole school is talking about it. I heard that you told Snape his nose was too big and that he needed to take a bath because he smelled like garbage. Then there was something about you wanting more than a week's detention and that you hexed all the cauldrons as you ran out of the class crying."

Hermione stared at him, her mouth open in anger.

"First off," she said, her anger fueling her words, "I did not cry. What I told Professor Snape was that he needed to look past the end of his abnormally large nose and see that all he does is terrify his students into doing poorly and that the only people who excel in his class are his own Slytherins. And no I did not want another week's detention, I merely commented on the fact that I thought it would have been more than a week's detention and 40 points from Gryffindor. And as flattering as it is to think I would have the power to hex all the cauldrons, I did not. I was still too angry to do anything besides walk out of the room," she told him, grabbing her glass of water and chugging the contents down as if she hadn't had a drink in a week.

As she put her glass down, an owl came soaring into the Hall. Landing atop a dish of potatoes, the bird held out its leg to Hermione. Taking the letter, she unrolled the piece of parchment.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked as he, Harry and Neville crowded around her.

"Who do you think," she said, reading the chicken scratch that was Professor Snape's writing.

_Your detention begins tonight. Please be at my office at 8 p.m. Sharp. If you are late, I shall add on another week of detention. Do not be late._

Glancing up toward the Staff Table, Hermione caught Snape staring at her. Smiling as if she had just gotten a present, she mouthed a thank you, watching his eyes narrow and his head turn as he said something to Professor Sprout.

"That's rotten," Harry said, glancing at Hermione as she looked back at the note. She merely shrugged.

"I figured it would start tonight. The sooner it's over the better. Are you going to eat that roll Neville?" she asked, reaching over to his plate and grabbing it off before he had a chance to answer.

"Thanks Neville," she said, getting up from the table and making her way toward the doors.

"Where are you going Hermione?" Harry yelled.

"I have work I need to get done before I have to go visit the dungeons. I'll see you guys later," she said, turning back toward the doors and heading back toward Gryffindor tower.

Ron turned to Harry.

"Is it just me, or is she uncommonly relaxed for being Hermione."

"No, it's not just you. I can feel it too. I wonder what's going on with her."

"It could be that time of the month," Neville said, glancing up from the pile of green beans on his plate.

Realizing the implications of that statement, all three boys' eyes widened and all at once their attentions were drawn to the plates of food before them, none wanting to continue the conversation.


	2. First Week of Detention

A/N: Hope you guys are liking it. I enjoy writing this story.

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**First Week of Detention**

"You may enter Miss Granger."

Hermione walked into the dark classroom, taking extra care to get her emotions in check. Making note of the large pile of cauldrons sitting against the far wall, she turned to look at Snape.

"Right on time Miss Granger," he said, his face forming into his trademark scowl.

"As always Professor; I make a point to be punctual, even to my own detention."

"I don't recall asking your opinion on the matter Miss Granger, but seeing that you always find a way to put forth your two cents, I insist you find a way to keep your mouth shut while you are cleaning all those cauldrons."

She couldn't resist the temptation.

"Why Professor, if you wanted me to refrain from talking, you should have just told me. But then again, I can't help but answer to the glory that is your voice."

Watching his face, Hermione could have sworn she saw a faint twitch in the corner of his mouth, almost as if he were fighting back a smile.

"You have two hours to clean as many cauldrons as you can. Note those that you do not clean will still be here tomorrow as well as an equal amount of new ones. I suggest you start now Miss Granger, before I decide to give you another week of detention."

"Yes sir," she said, her voice as sweet as sugar, as she turned around and made her way toward the far wall. Removing her robe and loosening her tie, she rolled up her sleeves and proceeded to scrub with all her might, unaware of the fact she was muttering to herself about petulant potion masters and long essays for charms classes.

……………………………………………………………….

Two hours later, Hermione shoved the last cauldron onto the shelf and turned to leave. Her hands were raw and her arms ached. She glared at Snape.

"You may leave Miss Granger. I will see you again tomorrow night, same time."

"Yes sir," she said, grabbing her robe and stalking out of the room thoroughly exhausted.

When she reached the common room, Hermione went straight to her room, bypassing the questioning looks of Harry and Ron, who were lounging in two comfortable looking armchairs. She had just spent the last two hours scrubbing cauldrons and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Thinking about the consequences, she figured they were worth it, having seen the look on Snape's face.

"Yes, it was very worth it," she said to herself as she found her way into bed and let sleep claim her tired form.

………………………………………………………………..

Hermione had never been so worn-out in her life. It seemed like all her professors had gone crazy and decided to load them down with massive amounts of homework. The hours Hermione didn't spend in class or sleeping were spent in the library. Her evenings were spent with Snape, cleaning _his_ cauldrons. It seemed like the cauldrons had gotten dirtier as the week went on, as if they had been intentionally dirtied. Hermione wondered whether or not Snape had anything to do with it, but she kept her mouth shut, realizing how much she hated cleaning. Washing dishes at home was one thing, but cleaning cauldrons every night for two hours was something she hoped she would never have to do again. Finally Friday had arrived and she walked toward Snape's dungeon for her last grueling night of cleaning.

Knocking lightly on the door, she entered when she heard the distinct growl of her Potions' professor.

"Miss Granger," Snape acknowledged as she walked to the back wall.

"Professor," she said, turning her back on him and loosening her tie just as she had done the previous four nights. But this time she decided to take it off along with her cloak, finding the lower number of garments the easier the job. Pushing her sleeves up, she proceeded to scrub away.

……………………………………………………………...

Snape watched her as she walked into the room. She had been there every night that week and he had only spoken seven words to her each night: "Miss Granger" and "You are finished Miss Granger." He watched her as she scrubbed the cauldrons, impressed with her effort. He knew her muscles ached and her hands were raw after each detention, but she did not waiver. He had even hexed some of the cauldrons to make them even harder to rid of waist. She still did not complain. He admired that in a student – a drive to do well, even if it was a detention. He had no pity for quitters.

Every night she would walk into the room, say her "Professor" and walk to the cauldrons. And every night he would catch her scent as she passed his desk, catch the essence that was her. That was what first drew him to her. She smelled of academics, of knowledge and the need for it. He could smell her courage, that damnable Gryffindor courage. But he could also smell her mind. Ripe for picking, he could tell she would never be satisfied with what she had, always wanting more, needing more. It was something they had in common. Whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape were very much alike.

Watching her closely, his eyes leaving the piece of parchment lying on his desk, he could see her brow furrowed, deep in thought, as if contemplating something extraordinary. He could easily use Legilimens to see what occupied her thoughts, but he decided against it. There was a sense of mystery to her that needed to be appreciated, to be savored. Little did he know but Severus Snape was staring. He watched as her hair fell over her shoulders, as her forearm flexed with every scrub of the steel wool in her hand. Her mouth moved as if reciting a silent spell and her eyes were trained upon the cauldron before her.

Returning to the parchment before him, he found it little more than a coincidence that it was _hers_. An essay on the effects of fluxweed in Polyjuice Potion. Looking it over, he could tell she had written far more than was expected. As much as he wished to grade it with her in the room, something told him not to. Unable to fathom where the feeling came from, he quickly placed the parchment on the bottom of the pile and reached for the next one. For the next hour he graded essays, his eyes straying every now and then from the parchments to the young woman across the room from him.

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Finished with the final cauldron, her hands swollen and one fingernail missing, Hermione couldn't have been happier in her life. Placing the cauldron on the shelf, she turned around to find Snape staring at her. She waited for him to speak. When he didn't say anything, she got the feeling he was waiting for something.

"Um, Professor, may I go now?"

"Are you all done?"

"Yes."

"Then I suggest you go," he said bluntly.

Looking at him strangely, she grabbed her cloak and left as quickly as she could. Making her way to see Madam Pomfrey and have her fingernails returned to their natural state, Hermione noticed she had left her tie in Snape's classroom. Grumbling as she turned around to return to the hell that was the dungeons, she made her way slowly, her arms heavy and her spirit trodden.

As she approached the door, she could see that it was still open from when she had left. Without thinking, she made her way into the classroom, only to be greeted by Snape standing by the counter, her tie in his hands and his nose breathing in her scent. It looked as if he were inhaling her, trying to suck every aroma out of the tie. Unable to say anything, Hermione stood still, her eyes never leaving the man in front of her. Without warning, sound escaped from her throat and Snape's head snapped up to find her staring at him. His eyes widened, fully aware he had been caught. Unable to think of anything to say, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

"Um, Professor, could I have my tie back?"

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**A/N:** Kind of creepy, I know. But isn't Snape creepy...if not incredibly alluring? Hope you like it. 


	3. Discovering Secrets

**A/N:** So here I am watching the lovely _Sense and Sensibility_, which probably doesn't help when trying to think of slinky situations to put Snape and Hermione in, but then again, images of Alan Rickman in tight period pants can do wonders for the imagination. Enough of my rambling, on to the next chapter.

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**Discovering Secrets**

Snape looked at her, the tie still held within his hands. Hermione couldn't say anything; the look he gave her chilling her to the bone and rendering her speechless. Unable to hold back, she gulped down a breath trying hard not to make a single sound.

As slowly as time allowed, Snape pulled away from the tie, his eyes never leaving Hermione's.

"Your tie, Miss Granger," he said slowly, his voice lower than his normal drone, his hand holding it out to her, waiting for her to take it.

Reaching out to take it from him, Hermione's hand grazed his as her fingers wrapped themselves around the fine silk cloth. Her eyes never leaving his, she could feel his thumb run over the back of her hand, the light pressure on her skin sending shock waves to her brain, the skin of her body prickling as if she had been submerged in a pool of ice water.

"Professor," she whispered, unable to say anything else. As much as she wanted to run away, her feet would not move and her mind yearned to know what would happen next.

Snape continued to stare at her, his eyes boring deep into her, searching for her soul. He took a step closer to her, his face contemplative, as if he were trying to decide whether or not to do something. He wavered for a moment and then stood still, drawing his hand back to his side.

"Leave, Miss Granger," he said, watching her closely, listening to her ragged breathing. "Now, Hermione," he growled, shocking her out of her trance. Jumping up, she took one look at him and turned, running out of the room before he could say anything else to her.

As she stumbled into the Gryffindor common room, she ran as fast as she could to her dormitory, throwing herself on her bed and closing the drapes around her. Glancing down at her hands, Hermione could see she was shaking a considerable amount, her hands still bloody from the loss of her fingernails. As much as she wanted to go to see Madame Pomfrey, she couldn't bring herself to leave the safety of her bed. She needed to think over what happened and why Professor Snape, of all people, would touch her hand that way.

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Snape stalked into his private chambers, his mind reeling at what he had just allowed himself to do.

"You bloody fool," he said to himself as he looked at his reflection in the mirror above his bathroom sink. "How could you do something like that?"

He had not intended to touch her; he had not wanted to touch her. But as he stood there and took in her scent, he couldn't get over how powerful it had been, how he had wanted it to take over his soul. He could smell her magic, her incredibly powerful magic. And when she had stumbled back into the room, he had been so caught off guard that he had not known what to do. He had expected her to go to Pomfrey, to have her nails taken care of and then return to the dungeons. But when she had returned earlier than he had expected, all he could do was look at her, hoping she wouldn't do anything he would regret.

And she hadn't. She had stood there, frightened at what she saw and captivated at the same time. When he had touched her hand it had been an accident the first time, but the second…that had been no accident. He wanted to feel her skin, feel the skin that housed her powerful magic. And when he had touched it, he had wanted to touch more of it, all of it. That was the moment he wavered, knowing if he had given in to temptation, he would have given up everything. And that was when he told her to leave, wishing she wouldn't, knowing she did not want to go.

"Wonderful job Severus; you've really set yourself up you fool," he spat at his reflection, staring into his dark eyes. He hated what he saw…what he had become. His face no longer resembled that of his teen years. His skin had become pale and sallow, while his large, hooked nose did nothing for his features. Over the years he had become increasingly thin, his body now bony and gaunt. Long hours slaving under the Dark Lord had done that to him, as well as given him more scars than he cared to admit. His hair fell into his eyes, the black, greasy mess as unkempt as that of Harry Potter's. As much as he did not want to compare himself to the Chosen One, he had realized years ago that their hair behaved in the same manner.

His mouth was a cruel sneer, never forming into anything over a smirk. He had no reason to smile; he was not a happy man, incapable of love. There was nothing for him to smile about. Those around him viewed him as a traitor and those who knew what he was viewed him as a nothing -- insignificant and unimportant. Longing to break the mirror in front of him, he walked away, wishing he could disappear into nothing.

Stalking back into his room, he flung himself into a chair beside the lit fire. Staring into the dancing flames, he contemplated what he was going to do. Hermione was sure to pursue what had happened; she couldn't leave anything like that alone. It was her damn need for knowledge and new experience. A need her shared.

_Why you fool! Why did you have to touch her?_

He could have easily passed off smelling her tie for trying to smell for some kind of solvent or potion ingredient that could have soaked into the fabric. But when he had touched her, he had crossed a boundary he knew he would never be able to cross again. He had opened a box he knew he would not be able to close and he regretted every moment of it. But oh how she had smelled of knowledge…and power. And her skin had felt like solid electricity beneath his thumb. The moment he had touched her he could feel her energy, her life force and he longed to feel it again. If he touched her again, he would do it out of pure want and nothing more. Want for power and strength and that's all it would be and ever be.

………………………………………………………………

Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall dressed in a pair of jeans and a big sweater. She had spent most of the night thinking and now she regretted it. She had been able to doze off sometime after 3 am, but having overslept and almost missing breakfast, she had thrown on the closest thing to her bed and ran down to the Great Hall. Glancing up at the Staff Table, she could see Dumbledore speaking with Professor McGonagall, their heads lowered and tilted toward each other. As her gaze scanned the table, it finally fell upon Professor Snape, who immediately sought her out when he could feel her staring at him. Unable to do anything except stand and stare, she didn't notice when Harry and Ron called her name.

"Hermione! Hermione!" Ron yelled then decided to walk over and wave his hand in front of her face when he received no reaction.

Her sight left the Staff Table as she concentrated on the hand in front of her face. "What do you want Ron?" she asked him, looking at his face.

"Um, Earth to Hermione. We were calling you but you weren't paying attention."

"I…was distracted," she said, making her way to the Gryffindor table. She took a seat beside Harry.

"How are you feeling Hermione? Was the Bat his usual self last night?"

Realizing she still had not gotten her fingernails healed yet, she immediately placed her hands in her lap, staring down at the plate in front of her.

_How can you be so negligent?_

"Yeah, he was as silent as a rat and said nothing at all. I washed so many cauldrons last night I never want to see another one."

"Are you coming to Hogsmeade?" Ron asked as he took a sip of the Pumpkin juice in the mug that had been in front of him.

"I don't think so," she said, glancing back up at the Staff Table and noticing that Snape no longer was present. She looked back at Ron. "I have some stuff I need to get done for Charms and I also need to do some research for Arithmancy. Snape's detentions have not helped me this week and I have some catching up to do."

"Hermione, even if you couldn't read you wouldn't need to catch up. I'm sure you'd still be top in our year if you couldn't even see the class material," Harry said, taking a bite out of a large apple.

"Thanks, Harry, but I need to do it." Risking her hands for a moment she reached across the table and grabbed a piece of toast. Buttering it quickly, she took a large bite out of it and then chugged down the glass of water sitting in front of her. "Have fun today, I'll see you guys later," she said, standing up and making her way out of the Great Hall.

As she made her way up the large staircase that lead to the hospital wing, she was taken back when she saw Snape walk toward her.

"Miss Granger," he said, stopping in front of her.

"Hello Professor," she whispered, unable to take her eyes off him but wishing she could look at the ground.

He looked her over noticing her disheveled appearance.

"Miss Granger you look like a mess."

Becoming angered by his remark, she no longer wanted to look at the ground.

"I'm sorry Professor. But I've found that lack of sleep and long hours cleaning cauldrons can do that to a person," she spat, wanting to show him she no longer was scared.

"Miss Granger, need I warn you that I could easily give you another week of detention. Don't try my patience." He glanced down at her hand and took hold of it when he saw that she had not yet gotten her nails fixed. "I doubt I have to tell you to take care of this, but really Miss Granger, I expected better of you," he said, his eyes searching her fingers as his hands touched the dried blood on her skin.

Unable to stop himself, he found his hands repeating the same motion they had the night before, his thumbs rhythmically rubbing the backs of her hands.

Looking at him closely, she could feel her breathing become erratic and wanted nothing more than to push him and run away. But she couldn't move, her body entranced by his gaze and her mind wanting nothing more than to learn why he touched her in that way.

Snape realized what he was doing and quickly pulled away.

"Go to the Hospital Wing, Miss Granger," he said, turning away from her and walking away.

Hermione stood and watched his back as he moved down the corridor, never once stopping to look back at her. Unable to determine what happened, she heard a loud crash behind her and then she ran, unnoticing of Peeves and his attempt to knock over a large row of statues.

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**A/N:** There you go, hope you like it. Tell me what you think. I always love to hear it. 


	4. Wanting More

**A/N:** So, another addition for you lovely readers. Hope you like it.

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**Wanting More**

Leaving the hospital wing as fast as she could, Hermione ran straight back to her room. Passing through the common room quickly, she barely noticed the lack of students lounging about. Taking refuge in her bed once again, Hermione pulled her knees to her chest and held herself, her mind over actively thinking over everything that had happened. Without realizing, she had let go of her knees and was absent mindedly caressing the back of her hand, softly stroking the skin that, only hours before, Snape had stroked while scolding her.

In the six years she had been at Hogwarts, Professor Snape had never acknowledged her in a true sense. Of course calling on her in class was certainly acknowledgement, but there was also twenty four other students in each class who were called upon just as often. No, he had never bestowed attention on her as he had over the past two days. Realizing what her hands were doing, Hermione quickly stopped, unable to understand why it felt so good and why she wanted _him_ to be doing it.

She was a simple girl. She had always been focused on her studies, never giving too much thought to boys. Of course she had those hormonal surges characteristic of any young teenager, but to put it bluntly, she was still a virgin. She had considered sex, and it was hard not to when she had been romantically tied to the famous Viktor Krum. But she had always decided against it, seeing it as nothing spectacular and hardly something to make a large deal about. Viktor, on the other hand, did not share her views, helping speed up the arrival of their breakup. Hermione was hardly fazed. It had been a long distance relationship, their communication mainly through owls, and they had hardly put any emotions into it. So it wasn't very surprising when she received the all too cliché "Dear Jane" letter. When she had thought about it, she was happier to be on her own and decided to throw herself deeper into her studies. Sure Lavender and Padma Patil didn't fawn over her every time she received a letter from her Romanian Quidditch King, but then again, she was never very fond of it in the first place.

But as she sat on her bed she realized something. Snape had been able to do something that Viktor Krum had never been able to do – and that was scare the hell out of her. And yet she wanted more. When his skin had touched hers it was like someone had thrown her into a bonfire, the temperature within her body rising and her skin feeling like it was aflame. She wanted to feel it again, feel him touch her skin. She wanted to seek him out, make him tell her why he did what he did; make him touch her.

_What are you thinking Hermione? _

The feelings taking over her body, she was extremely aware of the fact that the space between her legs was on fire, something she had only felt twice before, but never compared to the severity of what she was feeling now. Trying to understand what was happening to her body, Hermione decided there was only one place she would be able to find the answer. Grabbing her school bag, she left the room, making her way toward the sanctuary that was the library.

………………………………………………………………

The book before her held the answer she was looking for. Having searched shelf after shelf for a Muggle dictionary, she had finally found one. Opened to the "L" words, she found exactly what it was she had been searching for:

_Lust (noun). 1.obsolete a: PLEASURE, DELIGHT b: personal inclination: WISH 2. usually **intense or unbridled sexual desire**: LASCIVIOUSNESS 3. a: an intense longing: CRAVING b: ENTHUSIASM, EAGERNESS_.

Re-reading it over and over, Hermione's eyes focused on one term in particular -- _intense or unbridled sexual desire_. Intense? _Oh gods it was intense_. Unbridled? _Very much so_. Sexual Desire? _Undeniably nothing more nor nothing less_. And as she focused on that one little sentence, she realized that was exactly what she was feeling. And then it hit her -- _intense or unbridled sexual desire_ for Professor Severus Snape.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said out loud, not even caring if anyone heard her. Unfortunately she did not notice the black haired, hooked nose potions professor standing in an aisle beside the one she was currently sitting in.

"And what, Miss Granger, is so shocking?" Snape asked as he appeared in the aisle, blocking her from an escape.

"Nothing," she said quickly, shutting the dictionary in front of her with a little too much force.

"Miss Granger, I believe you know how to take care of things that are not yours. Please be kind to the books, they haven't done anything to you to warrant an attack…although excessive reading and over use could count as harassment."

How easy it was for him to point out the faults of any one he laid eyes upon. Seeing her discomfort, with one fluid motion he bent down and snatched the dictionary off the floor. Hermione's eyes widened when she saw him open up to the page she had just been on.

"Professor," she cried, jumping up and trying to snatch the book out of his hand. Instead she managed to hit him in the chin, her hand coming up and fisting him in something that looked like an uppercut. The worst part was when she heard his jaws come together, the undeniable sound of teeth hitting teeth deep within her ears.

"Professor Snape! I'm so sorry," she chocked out, rushing over to him, trying to get him to look at her. Pushing her away, he opened his mouth, only to spit out two molars that had been knocked out from her powerful punch.

"Miss Granger, I fear you've done enough already," he said, glaring at her and dropping the dictionary on the floor.

"Professor Snape let me look at your mouth. My parents are dentists…"

"Somehow I doubt you know what you're doing," he said cutting her off while shooting her a fierce look.

Slightly frightened by his glare, Hermione took a step back. Snape looked at her.

"Let me see your hand," he said, holding out his. Without hesitation, she gave it to him, not ready for the surge of energy she felt the moment she touched his skin. Unable to deny it, Snape could feel it too and promptly dropped her limb, taking a step back himself. He looked at her.

"You may want to see Madame Pomfrey about that," he said and quickly turned and left the room.

……………………………………………………………...

"My dear, what happened to your hand?" Madame Pomfrey asked as she glanced over Hermione's bruised knuckles.

"IaccidentallyhitProfessorSnape," she said, her voice hurried and slurred together.

"What was that my dear? I didn't catch it."

"I said I accidentally hit Professor Snape."

"Oh my! What prompted you to do such a thing?"

"I didn't do it on purpose. It was wholly an accident. I was in the library reading and he appeared out of nowhere and asked me why I had said something. Before I knew it, he had my book in his hand and I was trying to grab it while I was trying to get up off the floor and my fist collided with his chin."

Madame Pomfrey gave a little chuckle at hearing what had occurred. "Oh my, that is an interesting tale. Well, I dare say Severus deserved it. He should know better than to be sneaking up on people like that."

"Well, I feel terrible. I think he lost two teeth."

"Why is he not here then?"

"He left after he told me to come see you."

"Insufferable man! He believes himself to be beyond medicine and rest. I'll have to talk to Dumbledore about it."

While they had been talking the kind witch had been rubbing a healing ointment on Hermione's hand and when she looked back at her knuckles, she noticed they were no longer swollen and bruised.

"Thank you Madame Pomfrey."

"Oh you're welcome. If anything should happen again you know where to find me."

Hermione gave her a smile, grabbed her book bag and made her way back to her room.

………………………………………………………………

The moment Hermione had left the library Snape had left his hiding place amongst a dark corner and went back to the aisle they had been in. Grabbing the book he had seen her with, Snape opened up to the page she had been on, conveniently marked by a deep red and gold ribbon only given to those in the house of Gryffindor. Glancing at the page, he came upon the one word he undoubtedly knew was the one she had been looking at.

_Lust? Hmmm…interesting. So that is what is happening. Severus, I'm surprised you had not realized that until now. Trust the know-it-all Granger to have beaten you to it._

Replacing the book back on the shelf, he left the library, his mind on overdrive as he pondered what was to come between the 7th year Gryffindor and the lowly potions master.

……………………………………………………………...

When she had returned to her room, Hermione had fallen upon her bed, her mind and body overly tired. Without realizing it, she had soon fallen asleep and her mind drifted off into the dark abyss that was the dream world…

_She was in the dungeon, cleaning cauldrons. Her hands were raw and her hair wet from the soapy water that had hit her in the face when she had been careless with her cleaning. Pushing the wet strands out of her face, she returned to the mess in front of her, hoping it would all be over soon. Muttering to herself she did not notice the dark figure that had crept up behind her. In one instant, the cauldron that had been in front of her disappeared, along with the twenty more she had left to do. Feeling a presence behind her, she turned around, only to find Snape standing against a nearby table, his head low while his long, black hair covered his face. His wand was pointed at her while the blacks of his eyes were the only thing visible on his face, staring at her with unwavering attention. _

_She gasped, taking a step backward, only to back into the edge of the counter. As if the whole room was masked in silence, Snape took a step toward her, his eyes still focused on her with intent. _

_When he was but an inch from her body, he looked up, his hair falling away from his face. She looked at him, understanding the look in his eyes…the look of want, of lust, of desire. Closing her own, they immediately opened when she felt his hand cup her chin, forcing her to look up at him. She looked, only to be greeted with his lips, finding hers in a forceful kiss. Unable to tell if she wanted it or wanted to run from it, she gave into him, feeling his arms wrap around her as the kiss deepened and their bodies became as close as their clothes would allow._

_The energy coursing through their bodies was tremendous and neither wanted to break the connection, fearing all would be lost if they were to separate. Breaking the kiss for the petty reason of needing air to breathe, Snape looked at her, his eyes glowing with want. She knew what he wanted, what he was going to get if she allowed it to continue. Feeling his fingers trail over her lips, she could feel her body react to his touch, readying itself for whatever was to come. _

_Looking into his eyes, she felt her hands reach up and wrap themselves around his neck, drawing him into another kiss, one that would no doubt lead to other things…_

Hermione woke with a start, her body sweaty and her breathing harsh. Glancing at the small clock on her nightstand, she was startled to see she had slept most of the day, it being almost dinner time. Feeling incredibly unclean, she headed off to the girls bathrooms, needing to rid herself of recently acquired muscle aches before dinner.

………………………………………………………………

Snape woke with a start, his body sweaty and his breathing harsh. The dream had seemed so real, the way he had been in his body, watching her cleaning cauldrons. And then he did the unthinkable. Unable to control the want and desire within him, he had taken the first step and kissed her, knowing she would either run away or give herself to him. After returning from the library to his personal chambers, he had laid down on his bed, hoping to think. But instead his fatigued body and mind decided sleep was the better option and before he knew it he had been whisked off to the dark abyss that was the dream world.

Gods he had wanted to kiss her. And he had. And it had felt so right, as if something had returned to his body, something that had been lost long ago. She had given into him, even taken control of the second kiss. But it was only a dream…a way for his subconscious to express what he was truly feeling, truly wanting.

Getting up from the bed, he glanced at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace. Realizing he had slept most of the day, Snape decided he needed to take a shower before he was required to appear in the Great Hall for dinner. Besides, he needed to take care of some recently acquired muscle aches that would undeniably grow worse if left unattended.

_Lord it felt so real…_

_

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**A/N:** So there you go…the next update. Hope you liked it.


	5. Another Detention

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay faithful readers…my wireless internet wouldn't work this weekend and I had to resort to using my sister's computer. But here is the anticipated update. Hope you like it. By the way, my sister and I were watching Sorcerer's Stone last night and she so nicely pointed out that _Petrificus Totalus_ should be renamed _Fk You Totalus_, because you're basically fing the person by making them as rigid as a board. That made me laugh hysterically, causing me to fall off the bed, which caused my sister to laugh even harder…poor Neville. On to the update!

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**Another Detention**

"Hermione, are you feeling all right?" Ron asked Sunday morning at breakfast. As Harry and Ron looked at her, they could tell she had not slept well the previous night, large circles beneath her eyes and her hair as disheveled as ever.

"Yeah, I stayed up late studying in the library," she told them, taking a sip from her tea. After having the all too graphic dream of Severus Snape, Hermione had tried to put off sleep fearing her mind would wander, once again, to her newly developed obsession. And that's what it was, a complete and utter obsession with a teacher she had always seen as indifferent and cruel.

"You really should tone it down, Hermione. You're gong to work yourself to death."

"Oh, Ronald, there are too many facts to know and history to learn. I'm not even half-way near the number of books I've set myself to read this year. To think _History of Magic Throughout the Universe_ would be so complicated; I was more than willing to give it up a couple of weeks ago, but now it has gotten so interesting."

Ron looked at Harry, his face full of shock.

"Hermione, that book is well over 3,000 pages!"

"I know, but it's so fascinating. I can't even fathom the amount of magic that's in the Universe that we have yet to control," she said with wide eyes and a large, studious smile. Harry and Ron merely shook their heads.

"Anyway, I'm off to the library to do some more research and look up information on Charms. If you want to join me, feel free," she said, standing up and making her way out of the Great Hall. As she neared the doors, she stole a quick glance at the Staff Table, only to find a certain dark Potions Master staring directly at her.

Ron looked at Harry as the petite frame of Hermione left the dining hall. "Like I said before, she needs to sort out her priorities."

Harry simply nodded in agreement.

………………………………………………………………

The words in front of her were hardly legible, her eye lids feeling the need to close themselves each time she gave in to their incredible weight. Hermione never thought eyelids could feel so heavy, but hers felt like lead weights. She had not been lying when she told Harry and Ron she had spent the night in the library reading; to put it simply, she had. But what she failed to tell them was why -- why she had avoided sleep at all costs. The simple reason: her obsession. She knew he was lurking in her mind, waiting for sleep to take her again so he could make her uncomfortable, unable to breathe with his pleasurable caresses.

She had immersed herself in book after book of boring facts and figures all in the name of avoidance; an avoidance to see _him_, to feel _him_, to _want_ him again and again. But as she fought her eyelids once more, her head began to sag and was soon resting peacefully upon the open book in front of her. Her eyelids closed fully, she was unable to open them when she let sleep take her…

………………………………………………………………

Snape watched as she left the room. His eyes had never left her face during the entire meal. He had studied her – watched the way she sipped her tea, the way her face lit up when Weasley or Potter said something funny, the way she was so intent when reading the Daily Prophet. His actions seemed stalker- ish, yes, but he was merely observing the habits and routines of his new obsession. Yes, that's what it was, a complete and utter obsession with a young woman he had always viewed as nothing more than an intellectual, know-it-all student.

Thankfully he had been able to sleep the night before, worried that his mind would feel the need to plague him with erotic dreams of his new Gryffindor obsession. But as he sat at his desk correcting essays, his eyelids began to feel heavy, as if sleep was calling to him.

_Where is this coming from?_

His head sagging low onto his chest, he was able to lay it down on a piece of parchment before sleep took him completely as an unknowing and unwilling prisoner…

………………………………………………………………

_The dungeon was cold; the ice in the air biting the exposed skin of Hermione's neck. She looked around her, noticing she was alone. There were no cauldrons to clean – the counters spotless and bare. _

_She could feel a change in the air, as if an invisible force had just entered the room. Whoever it was knew stealth and moved without sound. Feeling something brush the back of her neck, she knew who it was. Taking a step back, she gasped when her body touched his. _

_Turning her around to face him, Snape watched as Hermione registered the look in his eyes. The look he had given her before, the look of want and need…of desire. Letting out the breath she had unknowingly been holding, she looked into his eyes, returning the same yearning he undoubtedly held for her._

_Reaching out, he brushed the hair from her shoulders, his hands sending waves of energy into her body when his fingers grazed her skin. _

"_Hermione," he whispered in a low, husky voice as he stepped closer to her. Her breathing labored, she nodded her head in reply to his unasked question. Bending down slowly, his lips met hers in a soft kiss. But subtlety was left behind when passion overtook their minds, their caresses becoming deeper and more forbidden._

_Lifting her up onto the table, Snape wavered for a moment when he felt her legs wrap around his waist, only to regain his fervor when he heard a deep moan escape her lips. Freeing themselves of their tight robes, Severus began to unbutton her blouse, having removed her jumper and tie in a fit of passion, throwing them across the room when they were no longer needed. Hermione gasped when she felt his hands trace the outline of her body, her mouth unable to utter another sound as his lips crashed down on hers.  
_

_Unbuttoning Snape's high collared black coat, she could feel his chest heave as her hands strayed lower down his torso. His eyes rolling into the back of his head, his head fell back as she undid the last button and pushed the coat to the floor, her hands straying beneath the white shirt he wore underneath all his heavy layers._

_Her nails raking into his skin, a deep growl came from his lips when he felt her hands upon the waistband of his pants. Regaining his waning senses, Snape pushed her back, pinning her hands to the wooden counter as he bent over and covered her neck with soft kisses, his tongue leaving a trail as he tasted her salty skin.  
_

"_Severus," she gasped, her eyes widening when she realized his hands had left her arms and were now roaming lower down her body.  
_

"_Shhh," he hissed, his mouth against her neck as his hands tangled themselves in her hair. ._

_Hermione could feel the build up within her, the yearning for him. Grabbing his head, she pulled his face up to look at her. Her breathing ragged, she knew what was about to happen and how forbidden it was, yet she wanted nothing more than to let it continue…_

………………………………………………………………

"Hermione…Hermione! Wake up!"

The bushy haired girl woke with a start, blinking her eyes as she searched around her. Her gaze fell upon Neville.

"Neville, what are you doing here?"

"This _is_ the library. I was looking up something for Herbology and saw you over here. Are you all right?"

She looked at him strangely. "What do you mean 'are you all right'?"

"You were moaning in your sleep and thrashing about wildly."

Hermione tried her best to contain her embarrassment but failed when she felt her cheeks flush with color. "I was…um…I was having a bad dream…about Professor Snape."

Neville gave her a look of understanding. "You too? I know how you feel. I've rarely had a dream where Professor Snape didn't give me extra potions work or make me try a potion that I knew I couldn't make."

"Yes…that's exactly what happened."

"The potion he had you doing must have been really complicated for you not to be able to do it."

"Oh yeah…it was, it was really difficult."

"Well don't worry about it. There was this one dream I had…"

"Neville, I would really like to finish this conversation but I have to go. I'll see you later," she hurriedly told him as she packed her books into her bag and ran out of the library. Neville watched her as she left, wondering what exactly Professor Snape had done to her to make her so preoccupied. Shaking his head, he went back to the shelf he had been looking at and thought about his own dreams and what horrors he had faced in them.

………………………………………………………………

Snape woke with a start, the parchment his head had been resting upon stuck to his face. Tearing it away quickly, he jumped up from his desk, his chair toppling over behind him, and made his way to his private chambers. Entering the bathroom, he immediately went to the sink, filling his hands with cold water and splashing his face, hoping for some kind of relief for his burning skin.

His breathing had yet to cease from the ragged breaths he had been having in the dream. He licked his lips, hoping to catch a hint of the wonderful taste that was the Gryffindor Hermione Granger. He had been so close to getting what he wanted, getting to taste her in the most intimate of ways, but he had not, the dream ending right before he was able to reach her. If she tasted half as delicious as she smelled, he would be in Utopia.

Splashing his face again with the ice water, he couldn't help but loathe himself for what was taking place in his mind. The thought of having such relations with a student was appalling, and to think of actually acting upon them was even more sickening. But Snape wanted it, oh how he wanted it. He could feel the burning within him…the burning for her…the burning of a desire unanswered and waiting to be fulfilled.

_My God Severus, how could you let a girl do this to you? How could you let a student hold so much power over you?_

It was not love. There was no way it was love. It was complete lust, lust that was driving him crazy with want. And there would be no end to this lust if he did not give into it. He knew what would eventually happen, but that was her decision. His decision had already been made.

………………………………………………………………

Hermione was thankful she had been able to sleep soundly Sunday night, making her way to the Great Hall refreshed and smiling on another Monday morning. The dreams with Snape were doing nothing for her nerves and she was afraid they would end up taking over every aspect of her sleep. But waking up after a dreamless sleep returned her to her normal self and as she sat down beside Harry and Ron she helped herself to toast and scrambled eggs.

"You're looking well, Hermione," Harry commented when he and Ron had finished talking about Quidditch.

"I'm feeling well. I slept like a log last night and it was wonderful."

"Hermione, any more dreams about Snape?" Neville asked as he sat down across from her.

"You're having dreams about Snape?" Ron asked her, his face in a grimace.

"Yeah, I found her in the library yesterday moaning and thrashing about," Neville told them as he sloppily poured himself a cup of tea. Hermione's face began to flush again.

"Yes, I was having a bad dream yesterday and Professor Snape happened to be in it."

"What did he do in the dream?" Harry asked her.

_He seduced me in the potions' dungeon and was about to do something terribly taboo before Neville woke me up.  
_

"He was tormenting me with potion after potion and kept telling me that I was nowhere near adequate and kept having me make every potion over again."

"That sucks," Ron said, half listening and half wondering about other important matters, mainly having to do with Quidditch.

"Well, Hermione, I hope you don't have any more dreams like that. I bet it was because of all the detention you served last week. Your mind probably isn't over the fact that you had to wash so many cauldrons. I bet it will pass shortly," Harry said as he took a bite out of a piece of toast.

_Somehow I don't think this will pass anytime soon._

"I'm sure it will. Speaking of potions, I think we better go or else we're going to be late." The four friends stood up from the table, grabbed their bags and made their way down toward the Potions' dungeon.

………………………………………………………………

Snape stalked through the aisles, glancing over the cauldrons brewing throughout the room. He had made a point not to go near the Gryffindor girl, but was finding it difficult with Longbottom completely ruining his potion. Deciding he needed to say something, he walked toward the table the Golden Trio and their clumsy friend occupied. As he passed his obsession, he could smell her intoxicating scent and unconsciously stopped behind her, his body undeniably close to hers. Taking in the scent he had grown to worship he noticed her hair. He reached out and brushed his hand against the wild mane, reminiscing over the previous day's dream. He was utterly taken back by what happened next.

………………………………………………………………

Hermione could feel him behind her – standing and staring at her. But when she felt his hand brush against her hair, his fingers slightly grazing her neck, she immediately recalled the dream and stepped back into his body, smiling when she felt her back make contact with his chest.

Completely surprised by what occurred, Snape lost all sense of direction as his body fell back into a Slytherin boy, his reaction causing the cauldron he was tending to tip over and the contents to spill all over the table. Picking himself up off the floor, Snape was livid.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for carelessness. You should know better than to act so foolishly in a potions classroom."

"Professor Snape, I didn't mean to do it! You can't possibly take points away from Gryffindor if it was an accident."

Snape looked as if he was going to burst into flame.

"Another ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger. I'm surprised you still have yet to learn how to speak to a professor… another week of detention for not having learned the lesson the first time."

Hermione's mouth fell open. She couldn't handle another week of detention with him. It wasn't the detention she couldn't handle, no, cleaning cauldrons was simple; it was the fact that she had to be alone with _him_, at night, in the dungeon that shocked her.

He looked around the room and then at the mess on the table. "Class dismissed. But for Miss Granger's insistence on acting foolish, I want two feet of parchment on proper safety procedures in the classroom and what happens to careless witches and wizards when they don't take their safety seriously. Oh, and I should add, that's an addition to the already assigned homework," he said with a arrogant smirk. Hearing the groans escape from the students around him, he couldn't help but delight in their disappointment.

"Class dismissed," he hissed, turning his back on them and making his way to his desk. When he was sure everyone had left he turned around, only to find Hermione standing with her hands on her hips and her eyes trained on him.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"You know I didn't do anything wrong."

"On the contrary, Miss Granger, you were careless and caused an accident."

"That is the biggest load of rubbish I've ever heard."

"Would you like another week of detention, Miss Granger? Because I would be more than happy to oblige."

"No thank you, _Professor_, one is enough. What I find strange, Professor Snape, is how you reacted. It wasn't I who backed into the student, it was you."

"Only after you walked into me, Miss Granger. I dare say that is carelessness on your part, not mine. Your detention begins tonight at 8 p.m."

She couldn't decide what she wanted to do more: hex him to the ninth layer of Hell or kiss him passionately. She wanted to smack him, she wanted to curse him…she wanted him to take her right then and there. With an overly exaggerated grunt of frustration, Hermione grabbed her bag and marched out of the room, slamming the dungeon door behind her.

Severus watched as she left the room, his hands gripping the desk behind him as tightly as they could without causing massive amounts of pain. It was all he could do to resist the temptation to take her right there. He had never seen her so outraged, so incredibly livid, so incredibly right. And he had never wanted her more than he did at that moment.

_Oh Severus, what have you gone and done now?_

_

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**A/N:** There you go. Hope you liked it. You know what to do…to review or not to review, that is the question! Oh, and a reminder, if you'd like the original copy of this chapter, visit my website. It's very...different, I should say.


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